it was always said that of all the people on the Island I loved life the best I who had the least but I had all I needed
wild rose bush crushed between the rocks so carelessly placed and yet there a soul looks out at me
a cookbook is a strange place to find a recipe for the mind but the notes tell me the lemon tr… blooms year ‘round, never stops; while one branch sweetens the air
wind tangled trees coiling across a yellow moon spiraling leaves surf-curled dunes
The taste of winter ice Dug in August from the sawdust Of Conley’s ice house The slap of the screen door On Grammy’s porch
I’ve known rivers swift currents set free escaping to the brine of the ocean and on to exotic places I’ll never be
last night the winter world transformed to summer’s sphere fireflies in the night their aimless paths alight
looking at the world through drops of counterfeit lace on the window pane
Time for a pit stop Half face in rear view mirror Road unwound behind
through the sea smoke’s shimmering… where the Passamaquoddy flows the pulsing heartbeat of the strob… in my footsteps, crunching snow through the whirling, wind-blown f…
liquid blue nightgown made of lighter fare floats in romance of autumn air a ballerina in an erotic dance longing to join that v-trail in th…
Still they knock at my door And complain About the state of the world Selling fear Like grape Kool Aid
Many times, my father, drunk upon… “Spare the rod and spoil the child… Swung his belt and lay the stripes… To cleanse my soul. And I, drunk upon memory and whis…
In the universe Of winking stars is there one Who also wonders?
a great blue heron watches from a mogul of grass as I scavenge a poem from the marsh Tom Peepety calls